


Pining For You

by High-Seas-Swan (FangLang)



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Christmas, First Kiss, Flirting, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining, Ridiculous Hats, Slow Burn, and softer hearts, david pushes his luck, idiots to boyfriends, if you squint you can see the prompt, is he flirting?, lumberjack pat, pine needles everywhere, soft eyes, what i mean is the prompt is there it's just a little different?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:20:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27771394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FangLang/pseuds/High-Seas-Swan
Summary: A new Christmas Tree stand arrives across from Rose Apothecary, and with it, pine needles. Everywhere.It's driving David crazy. As is the cute-but-rude lumberjack running the lot.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 44
Kudos: 206
Collections: Schitt's Creek: Frozen Over (2020)





	Pining For You

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [SCFrozenOver2020](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/SCFrozenOver2020) collection. 



> **Prompt:**  
>  **David knows exactly which Christmas tree is perfect for the shop the second he steps onto the tree farm. But the cute ~lumberjack~ in the straight-legged mid-range denim and flannel makes him want to keep coming back...**  
>    
> I diverged a little (a lot?) from the prompt but I'm hoping I fit in enough of what you wanted!
> 
> Endless thanks to the mods for putting on this amazing fest, and their hard work.  
> All the love and thanks to RQ for everything, really. This wouldn't be here without you.  
> And to everyone else that helped, had a kind word or encouragement you're all rockstars, thank you!

David pulls the cuffs of his sweater into his palms and grips them tightly as he crosses his arms over his chest, trying to stave off the chill. It’s been an unseasonably cold November and Rose Apothecary hasn’t quite warmed up to the reality of it yet. Quite literally.

He knows the lack of heat has something to do with one of the rads but he’s already placed a service call and sure, he should follow up but that always feels like a Later David problem. And as there is no one to remind Later David, it’s almost December and _Now_ David is freezing. 

_I’ll call now._

Except the front windows are suddenly rattling in their panes, and a faint rumbling disrupts the morning calm. David only has a brief moment to panic that his obituary on page six will simply read, “former socialite found dead under a pile of rubble in rural Canada”.

“I mean, I’m sure they’ll at least mention your name.”

He whips around, already feeling the pinch in his eyebrows and the barb on the tip of his tongue as Stevie comes to join him but as the rumbling intensifies he turns his attention back outside. They both watch as an oversized tractor trailer slowly makes its way up Main Street. David doesn’t quite believe what he’s seeing; the 18-wheeler’s trailer is bursting its straps with Christmas trees. They must be packed nearly 15 feet high and ten trees across, hundreds of freshly cut pines. The truck rolls another few feet and finally comes to a rest directly across from the Apothecary. 

“What the fuck?”

The truck’s brakes hiss, as air is expelled and the driver hops down from the cab. A few moments later Ray Butani’s familiar lightning blue Pontiac Sunfire pulls up and David’s frown deepens. 

“What’s going on?” David whispers harshley.

“It looks like Ray is setting up shop right across the street from you this year,” Stevie offers a little too cheerful for his liking. 

“But what happened to the barn outside of town? Where he always has it? Far, far away from here?”

“I think, maybe he sold it? Or did it collapse? Besides, he must have gotten a deal on trees. There’s at least 500 there. Clearly he needed more space and visibility.” 

“There’s a whole field at the barn!” 

Stevie shrugs, real big help. 

David watches as another few cars join the cavalcade of people out front. They step out from their cars and shake hands, looking up at the load of trees. Before long, they begin unloading trees of every size, piled haphazardly in the empty lot and lining the sidewalk out front. 

“Well, just think of the foot traffic!” Stevie offers, which might be an actual helpful thought but David can’t help but keep an eye on what’s happening outside. 

“Hmm.” 

He isn’t sure. He hadn’t planned for this on his holiday mood board for the store. Something tells him it won’t be as serendipitous as Stevie seems to think it will be. Though, before he can dwell, the bell over the front door chimes and a new customer walks in. David turns to them and offers his best smile, even if it is still slightly tinged with worry. 

“Welcome to Rose Apothecary, let me know if I can help you with anything today.” 

And eager for help they are, and so David has no time to notice as another car pulls up and a man dressed in a matching buffalo plaid hat and fleece steps out to take stock of the Christmas trees and lot.

***HOHOHO***

David hates mornings. More often than not when his alarm wakes him up at the ungodly hour of ten past eight, he lies in bed and weighs the pros and cons of changing his opening hours. How much would it hurt his bottom line or maybe he could find someone to cover just the first two hours—

That might cost more than opening later. 

Maybe Stevie— no, that would definitely cost more. Though, she’s benevolent enough to lend a hand when he absolutely needs to do a vendor run during the week, or to handle the cash while he prepares for his first holidays at Rose Apothecary.

In any case, he has to be up early but he doesn’t have to like it. Which is why he’s usually only half awake as he grabs the coffee Twyla slides over to him at the cafe. 

“And that’s why grandpa doesn’t slide down the chimney anymore,” Twyla trails off before shaking her head. “Anyway, isn’t it going to be great to have the tree lot right across from us? It looks way better than what Ray usually has. I’m already in the holiday spirit. I may put up a tree in the cafe this week.” 

“Yes, um, what?” David finally asks as the rich, sweet taste of his macchiato slowly causes his brain to catch up to Twyla’s morning chatter.

“The new Christmas tree lot. Don’t tell me you missed it.” 

“No, no. I couldn’t possibly have missed it. The vibrations from the truck coming down mainstreet nearly knocked all the body milk onto the floor. Don’t they have laws about that?” 

Twyla waves him away like he’s joking. 

_If only._

A new customer comes to the counter, effectively ending their one-sided morning chat and David is still shaking his head as he steps out into the cold, yet he can’t help a glance across the street. 

What he sees has him stuttering to a stop. The lot is almost completely set up, most of the trees are settled against wooden stands, in long winding rows, like a holiday themed maze. String lights hang in a criss cross pattern overhead and smoke rises from a little shack near the entrance. The little cabin is decorated a little too garishly for his liking but he wouldn’t expect any less from Ray. 

It’s only when hears the low strains of White Christmas filtering from across the street that he gets moving again.

November 28th, way too early for Bing Crosby and White Christmas.

***HOHOHO***

He doesn’t give the lot too much thought for the first few days, only reluctantly admiring some of the added lights and decorations on the trees out front. And maybe when he closes up Rose Apothecary each evening, it’s not the worst thing to look over and see the warm lights twinkling against the inky black night. 

He’s surprised Ray has done so much. He’s also surprised Ray hasn’t come by yet. Small blessings.

Maybe it won’t be so bad.

***HOHOHO***

_Maybe_ whoever is selling these trees should be drug out on the street and shot. 

Maybe— _maybe_ he could set the whole lot on fire and never see another pine needle in his life, would that be too much to ask? 

David pictures increasingly more elaborate ways of getting rid of the trees as he sweeps the ever growing amount of pine needles scattering all over his store. Why buy a tree when he can just sweep the Apothecary a few times a day and build one himself?

He knocks the dust pan aggressively against the garbage before taking a deep breath and attempting to recenter his thoughts.

All was well until December 1st hit and then, suddenly new patrons started to arrive. Sure, they have cheerful attitudes and open wallets but what is holiday cheer good for if it is only matched by the amount of pine needles they manage to drop from the tree trimmings they carry.

It appears that _the best Christmas Tree Lot in all the Elms_ (really fucking debatable, if you ask David) isn’t only selling Christmas trees but also tree trimmings. Trimmings wrapped up in brown twine with no forethought to containment. No thought to the damage and duress they could cause a simple, but high-end, boutique residing across the street. 

“I just— couldn’t Ray put them in bags? Or insist the customers put them in their cars _before_ coming here out of some common human decency?” David asks as he sweeps, _again_ , for the third time that evening, the fourth day in a row. He can’t possibly be expected to do this for three more weeks.

Stevie pauses, red paper coffee cup halfway to her mouth, bell still ringing overhead. She takes a step back. 

“Hey!” David calls out, getting her to freeze.

“Ray isn’t there.” 

David’s head snaps up. 

“What do you mean?” 

Stevie’s eyes widen and she slowly brings her drink to her lips.

“What are you drinking? Did Twyla change the cups from the cafe for the holidays? What’s going on?” 

Stevie blinks, all put on innocence when she is anything but and David can only narrow his eyes when she stays silent. 

“Stevie,” he hedges, a statement of confusion dancing across his features.

“Are you almost done here? I’m hungry. You promised me pizza.” 

David carefully leans the broom against the wall before closing in on Stevie. His sneakers nearly brush hers as he comes to stand in front of her.

“What aren’t you telling me?” 

Stevie looks anywhere but at David. 

“Rayisn’trunningthelot.” 

“Excuse me?”

And before she can take another sip of her drink, David has swooped in, stealing it from her grasp. He holds it high and away from her reach. It only takes a moment of trying to grab for it before she cracks. 

“Ray isn’t running the lot,” and the quieter, “Patrick is.” 

She tries to make another grab for the drink but he continues to hold it aloft. 

“And this drink is?” David prods, unsatisfied. Momentarily putting this _Patrick_ person on hold.

Stevie rolls her eyes and so in retaliation he brings the drink to his lips. When the rich flavors of chocolate and Baileys hit his tongue his eyebrows jump. 

“Ugh, fine. It’s from Patrick.”

“Ok, who the fuck is Patrick?”

Stevie shrugs, clearly just to be a troll. Well, if she wants to be like that, so can he. Who the hell is this new guy? Stealing his best friend, giving her drinks, sending pine needles and extra work his way. He shoves the drink back at her before going for the front door. 

“David, what are you doing?” Stevie calls after him but he doesn’t stop. He’s going to meet this Patrick and tell him exactly where he can stick his pine needles and festive drinks. 

David stalks across the street, a man on a mission, and his pace only slows as he steps on the sidewalk and is forced to quickly sidestep an oncoming Christmas Tree. He huffs his displeasure but the couple carrying it are too full of that annoying holiday cheer to notice. 

He takes a few steps under the first set of hanging lights and glances around. There are people milling about in every direction, couples slowly walking around, friends taking selfies as they peek between trees, and parents trying to keep track of their children. There are even more trees decorated inside, and even _he_ pauses to admire some of the smaller ones, visualizing where he might be able to put them out front.

But then hears it. 

“Yes, tree trimmings come free with every purchase. Just let me know how much you want.” 

David whips around and makes a bee line for the voice. 

He finds the source of his aggravation moments later, and he’s not— he’s definitely not what David expected. 

He isn’t an older weathered man or perhaps the gentleman tree farmer that David had begun to picture as he stomped across the street. The man is still ridiculous, that needs to be made clear but he’s… okay looking. He has an open smile, and cheeks rosy from the cold. He looks happy and carefree, wrapped up in buffalo plaid fleece and wearing a small name tag that reads ‘Patrick’!

_Him!_

And he’s wrapping up the latest tree trimmings in twine and David doesn’t care that he might even be handsome in a rugged, _I-could-chop-down-the-tree-and-then-also-keep-you-warm-by-the-fire_ sort of way because he’s also clearly the reason for his pine problem these last few days. So whatever kind of handsome he may be is a moot point. 

David squares his shoulders, his mouth in a thin line and takes a few steps forwards but is quickly frozen in place when warm brown eyes find his. 

_Dammit, really, with the eyes?_

They seem to widen in recognition, though David can’t imagine why. The man, or _Patrick_ , he reminds himself, looks like he wants to say something but clamps down on his lip when a couple steps in front of David with a tree. Their eyes meet again and Patrick shrugs in a silent apology. David thinks about waiting but suddenly there’s more people lining up to pay or to ask questions. The chill is also settling through David’s sweater and he’s not quite ready to make a scene in front of this many people. He does still want them to come to his store after all. 

So he takes a step back and turns, he’ll regroup and come back in the morning when things are quieter. For now he has a few more questions for Stevie. 

***HOHOHO***

Except Stevie doesn’t say much. 

“So you set him in his place?” she asks from her perch at the cash, secret sort of smile behind her cup as she slides the register drawer closed.

David’s eyes narrow, “Of course.” 

Stevie tilts her head, “Nah, I don’t think so. You still look disgruntled.” 

David opens his mouth, but manages to bite back whatever bridge he was going to tell her to walk off of, he won’t be baited.

“Cash sorted?” he asks instead.

“Of course,” she parrots back. 

His hand hovers over the bank deposit bag until he can’t take it anymore.

“GOD, WHAT? What aren’t you telling me?” he asks. 

Stevie blinks and smiles. 

“Nothing.”

David watches her for a few more beats before grabbing the deposit bag and disappearing into the back to put the money in the safe. He snags his coat and keys, and joins Stevie out front.

In a last ditch attempt to gain some information, he holds the door closed and drops his aloof statement. 

“Stevie, please,” he says quietly and it momentarily stuns her. 

“Ugh. you’re not fun, god. Patrick moved to town about two weeks ago when he took a job with Ray. He stayed a few nights at the motel. I actually think he’s a business advisor or something—”

“I knew it! I knew you were hiding something!”

Except David played his cards too early and Stevie’s mouth drops open. 

“Well, I’m not telling you anything else, especially not when he asked about…” she trails off and tugs on her toque. She nudges him aggressively with her hip and slips outside. David hurries to follow, fumbling with his keys in his haste. 

“Asked about what?” 

She lifts up a finger and keeps walking. 

With huff and a quick searching look across the street, David hurries to keep up, hoping he can find another way to get the information out of her. 

***HOHOHO***

He doesn’t. 

And the pine needles keep coming and he doesn’t manage to get away from the store until late the next afternoon. 

It’s only when he finally ushers Bob out with his bath bombs and tea, that he catches sigmht of red and black plaid across the street and makes the split second decision to go back. 

He turns around the ‘Away for Five Minutes’ sign on the door, locks up and walks over.

***HOHOHO***

This time it’s kids in his way, excited, curious and full of questions. 

“Can we get more than one?” 

“Do you put all the ones you don’t sell in _your_ living room?”

“Can I get one for my room?” 

“Mister, did you cut all these trees yourself?” 

David looks up from the inquisitive children when he hears a soft chuckle.

Still ridiculous (and handsome). _Ugh, the worst._

He watches as Patrick first takes in the kids and then enjoys the way his eyes stray in his direction. David catches the movement of his shoulders as if he’s about to shrug again and no— David won’t stand for it. He shakes his head and crosses his arms over his chest. 

Patrick bites his lip to stave off a smile and brings his attention back to the kids. It gives David more time to study him and come up with a plan.

What’s he trying to be anyway, a Canadian lumberjack cliché? David wonders as a light snow begins to fall. Though, in fairness, Patrick is probably warmer in his fleece coat and matching trapper hat, earflaps pulled low than David is standing here in just a cashmere sweater, again. He watches as Patrick patiently explains how he didn’t chop down all the trees himself, “Can you imagine how big my arms would be—” the kids all giggle and maybe David pictures it. He needs to get out more. He refocuses as Patrick continues on about the trees, how they arrived from a big tree farm where many people did the chopping. And while their parents probably didn’t want multiple trees in their home, they could each pick some tree trimmings. 

David’s eyes narrow at the statement and Patrick’s eyes snap to his. He must have actually voiced his displeasure. So he looks away, avoiding the questioning eyes, and tightens his arms against the cold. 

He waits while each child picks out some branches and the parents pay for their Douglas fir. Patrick thanks them and wishes them a Merry Christmas before finally turning towards David. 

“Hello,” is all he offers. 

“Hello,” David echoes, only a little snippy.

“Something tells me you aren’t here for a tree.” 

“What gave me away?”

And maybe David feels a little silly but he’s never been one to back down once he’s committed so he stands his ground, except the man is smiling and rubbing the back of his neck and looking up at him from under pale lashes and stop—

“David Rose,” David mumbles and Patrick nods, eyes quickly flicking in the direction of the Apothecary. 

“Patrick Brewer,” the lumberjack offers in turn, hand outstretched. David hesitates only a moment before unwrapping his arms from around himself and lending his hand. He is immediately surprised at the warmth, his own hands are cold from about mid-September on. His hand tightens and instead of saying something polite he goes with, “A little overkill, no? Is this uniform mandated by Ray?” David asks, eyes trailing up and down Patrick’s… sturdy frame and arms that probably could chop down a few more trees than he’s letting on. There’s a joke in there somewhere about a lot of wood, but David begs his brain not to make it. 

Patrick looks down at himself and back up to David, eyes amused.

“Nope. Right out of my own closet but it fits the aesthetic don’t you think?”

And so what if the red does complement his pink-tinged cheeks and deep brown eyes. 

David sniffs and looks away, Patrick doesn’t seem deterred.

“And it keeps me warm. I can’t help but notice, David, you could do with a hat and coat of your own,” Patrick hesitates and gives David’s hand another gentle squeeze before finally letting go, “Maybe some gloves as well.”

Before David can reply, a young woman politely inquires about some additional tree trimmings and it reminds David why he’s here, though he does wait until Patrick is done. He does have some manners. As soon as the woman is far enough away, he speaks up.

“You can’t just let people walk out of here with those.” 

Patrick looks to the woman and back to David, confused. 

“They come free when you buy a tree.”

“The needles get all over my store!”

Patrick follows David’s hand as he points across the street.

“You know, I've been meaning to stop by.” 

“Not if you’re going to tramp pine needles everywhere, you won’t be.” 

David absently wipes at a few stray needles that have stuck to Patrick’s shoulders and if when he realizes what he’s doing, he also notices the blush on Patrick’s cheeks, well, he ignores it. Sort of. 

It must be from the cold it or the exertion from trimming trees or, honestly he doesn’t _really_ notice it.

Patrick blinks at him owlishly and— _honestly!_

“Look! You’re giving people these trimmings and they are coming into my store and they are getting pine needles everywhere. It’s— it’s not correct.”

Patrick looks amused but at David’s narrowed gaze he at least tries to school his features. 

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“See that you do.”

David takes a step back. 

“Can I make it up to you some other way?” Patrick seems to hurry to get the words out before a new family approaches. 

“I don’t know.” 

That stops Patrick up short.

“You don’t know,” Patrick deadpans and David shrugs.

What is he doing? Is he flirting? It feels like flirting but he’s annoyed, right? He shouldn’t be flirting. Is this guy even flirting? He’s not, is he? The cute lumberjack in the straight-legged, mid-range denim and flannel isn’t possibly interested. 

“Ok, we’ll see what I can do then, David Rose.” 

And then he winks or he sort of winks. 

David’s belly swoops. 

David takes a few steps back as a new family surrounds Patrick. Patrick’s smile comes easy as he listens to their request, nods and reaches for an axe. He gives a last look to David who nods in turn. 

And who absolutely doesn’t enjoy seeing Patrick with the axe. This is not an aesthetic he goes for not— Patrick drops his gaze and bites his lip before he leads his newest customers away. 

No, David doesn’t like him, um _this_ , at all. 

Honestly, the man is wearing a hat with earflaps. 

***HOHOHO***

David stands back, scanning the store to make sure the new holiday stock he’s been arranging all morning fits in seamlessly with the rest of the inventory. He notices an out of place ornament just as the front bell chimes and it’s him—Patrick, here in David’s store and the holiday wares are momentarily pushed to the side. 

He looks the same, same silly hat and inescapably loud eyes and—

“Good morning, Patrick.” 

Patrick’s face breaks out into a smile and he holds his hands up in surrender.

“Good morning, David. I come pine needle free.” 

David eyes him skeptically and walks around from behind the counter and takes a turn around Patrick to see for himself. He can see his shoulders silently shaking and tucks away his own smile. 

“Mmm, I’ll allow it.” 

He crosses his arms against the chill that blew in with Patrick and watches him explore. He stops at the scarves and reaches out towards a red and black one. 

“Absolutely not, I won’t let you. You already have the matching coat and hat. Try the heather gray one.” 

Patrick is pulling the scarf from the hook when the Apothecary’s phone rings and David excuses himself, although he keeps an eye on Patrick and the way the scarf must feel against his soft cheek - that is, the soft scarf against his cheek, Davis stumbles over his own thoughts. 

“Rose Apothecary— excuse me, it’s already been two weeks. What do you mean you need to reschedule?” 

David’s eyes catch Patrick’s curious ones as he listens to another excuse from Frank’s Plumbing and Heating and why he, yet again can’t come fix David’s problem. 

“The store will be frozen over by the time you finally come— no, I am not exaggerating.” David takes a deep breath and holds the phone away from his ear for a moment, “You know what, I’ll find someone else, thanks so much.” 

He drops the phone on the counter and closes his eyes. 

“Problem?” 

Patrick has made his way to the cash, scarf on the counter, concern in his eyes. David waves him away. 

“No really, maybe I can help.” 

David motions towards the front of the store where the rads stand on either side of the big windows.

“The radiator isn’t working or the furnace or something. It’s not heating up so the windows are frosting over, and I can’t leave any of the plants up front, or myself for that matter because it’s freezing and plumber Frank keeps cancelling on me and—” 

And a warm hand closes over David’s. David stops his rambling.

“I think you might just need to bleed the radiator.”

“Excuse me?” 

Patrick laughs but leaves to go check out the problem. He places a hand over the rad on the left side and clearly feels the warmth. 

“The other side,” David explains and watches Patrick do the same on the rightside of the store, nodding when he comes up cold.

“Bleeding means getting the air out of it. It’s usually the problem when only one isn’t working.” 

“And you can fix that?” 

Patrick kneels to look at the rad and nods slowly. 

“Yeah, I think. Sure I can. I just need the right tools. I can come back at the end of the day.” 

“You don’t have to do that...” David trails off wondering if he should push his luck, wondering what exactly he is doing. 

Patrick makes his way back to the cash, watching David like he’s waiting for the punchline, somehow already onto him. David looks away but after a moment and a slight shoulder shimmy meets Patrick’s eyes. 

“But you did ask yesterday how you could make it up to me.” 

Patrick’s laugh bursts out of him. 

“Yeah?” he asks and David shrugs in response, needing to look away, needing to not show how much that laugh and smile and ridiculous hat is really doing it for him. He begins to ring up the scarf. 

“It would be a start anyway.” 

David really does enjoy pushing his luck. 

Patrick pauses while handing over his credit card, both of them holding onto it. Eyes still dancing in amusement but also curiosity. 

“Just a start?” 

“Well, it’s been quite distressing these last few days, all these pine needles.”

“Yeah, you’re distressed? You don’t look too distressed.” 

“I hide it well, if you only knew.” 

David drops his gaze and rips the receipt from the terminal before placing it, along with the scarf, carefully in a Rose Apothecary tote. He’s not really sure what he’s doing. He doesn’t really do this, whatever _this_ is. He’s been busy with the store and he doesn’t have time and yet—

“At the absolute least, you owe me a drink.” 

_What_ is he doing? What is wrong with him? Oh, God. 

He dares a look up as he passes Patrick his bag. Patrick looks like he’s still trying to figure him out.

“I just mean, Stevie shows up here with a delicious beverage, spiked might I add, and I’ve never received a single offer…”

Stop. Stop talking David. Stop. He presses his lips together. 

Patrick takes a few steps back, still studying David and David could literally die. Who’s going to fix his heating now? He’s going to have to enter the Apothecary by the back door to avoid Patrick ever seeing him again, he’s going to have—

“When should I have offered you that drink?” Patrick asks, hand on the front door handle. 

David’s thoughts skid to a halt as he tries to catch up to the question. 

“Sorry?” 

Patrick’s face finally relaxes into a playful smile, like he’s ready to play David’s game, he just doesn’t have all the rules yet, but he’s willing to try.

“Should I have offered you the drink after you accused me of my pine needle offences?”

“Well—”

“Or how about after you critiqued my winter apparel?”

“I mean, your hat _is_ ridiculous.” 

“I don’t know, David. I think you sort of like it. 

“I do not.” 

“Mmm, I’m not so sure.” 

“No, Patrick.”

Patrick gives him another half-wink and a tug to his left earflap before opening the door. 

“Um, will I be seeing you later?” David hurries to call after him.

“Goodbye, David.” 

And Patrick slips away, with a teasing smile and gust of cold air. David isn’t sure which one causes him to shiver. 

***HOHOHO***

The amount of cars and trucks that pull up in front of the tree lot is quite frankly, impressive. Though, David notices this not because of the new customers in the store but because he’s been trying to spy on Patrick all day, wondering if he did push too far. 

“I am so glad we came out all this way for the tree. If we hadn’t, I would have never found your store. It’s beautiful.” The woman’s chin rests on her partner's shoulder as her eyes dance around the store. David smiles to himself as he carefully wraps their handmade beeswax Hanukkah candles. He still gets a small rush hearing positive comments from customers, their delight in something he’s built.

“Thank you so much.” And he means it.

He’s carefully closing the lid on the giftbox when a few pine needles rain down on the counter. He bites his lip to avoid saying anything and casually peeks up. The woman is whispering something to her partner and pointing to an item, on a shelf near the front and in doing so, jostles the brown bag in her hands. 

The _bag_ containing tree trimmings. 

So the solution isn’t perfect. David’s already swept once, and will probably have to again but— dare he admit— it has been a little better. 

“Here you are and I’ve slipped a card in the bag with our website information. Most of our items are also available online, though of course, we would love to have you back to the Apothecary,” David just finishes explaining as the front door opens and Patrick steps in. 

His eyes immediately find David’s and then drop down to the bag holding the branches. He suppresses and grin and David’s eyes slowly move down to the counter, where his index finger taps near what's fallen off. Patrick just shakes his head and steps aside as the couple leaves. 

“You came,” David states, glancing down at the time on the computer to avoid looking directly into those teasing eyes. 

Seeing the time, he bypasses Patrick and turns the sign on the door to _‘closed’_ and locks up.

“I said I would,” Patrick offers as he walks over the counter and shrugs out of his coat and hat and— _oh_.

There’s curls under there. They’ve been flattened by a day of wearing a hat but as Patrick runs his hand through them they start to regain their shape. They’re a lot. David looks away and clears his throat. 

“Did you, though? You sort of left me hanging.” 

“Well, I guess I threw you a small change-up to keep you guessing.”

“I don’t know what that means.” 

Instead of explaining, Patrick laughs and begins to unpack items from his backpack; a small metal key, a plastic container, a rag and then he hesitates.

“Something else you want to share?” David asks, approaching slowly, peeking over Patrick’s shoulder. Patrick glances back and they both freeze. He’s not sure if it’s out of discomfort or surprise or… 

Patrick’s eyes dip to his lips. 

Or something else. 

He actually feels Patrick take a deep breath and realises how close he is standing and takes a step back, allowing Patrick to retrieve the last items from his bag and turn to face David again. David looks down and can’t help but be pleased. Patrick tries to look a little more stern, and yet a twitch at the corner of his mouth gives him away.

David sort of loves it. _Ahem_. Appreciates it.

He’s rarely been at the receiving end of these kinds of smiles, these early tastes of flirtation if it is indeed flirting. 

“So David, could I interest you in a holiday beverage?” 

Patrick holds up a large thermos. 

“I suppose I could be convinced,” he answers, already reaching for the disposable cups and holding them out for Patrick to fill. 

David feels the warmth through the cardboard cups as Patrick pours out the thick, dark and creamy hot chocolate as curls of steam rise into the chilled air of the store. He waits for Patrick to cap the thermos and take his own cup before indulging in a careful sip.

Rich chocolate flavors mix with the vanilla and sharp taste of irish whiskey from the Baileys. It warms David from the inside out and he already feels a flush rise to his cheeks. He wants to sink into the feeling, especially when it is accompanied by this near-stranger’s eyes on his. He’s struck suddenly about how this is no different than sharing a drink with a random at a bar. He barely knows Patrick any better than someone who may have bought him a drink in hopes of something more. And yet, that something more that he wants can’t be found in one night. He wants a lot more, and that hasn’t happened for a very long time. 

When Patrick lowers his own cup, David watches as he licks the chocolate flavor from his lips and only barely resists swaying more into Patrick’s space to chase the flavor he knows still remains.

“Satisfactory? On my way to earning your forgiveness?” Patrick asks, voice gruff but eyes teasing. 

“I think so.” 

Patrick nods and then after studying David for a moment seems to shake himself out of it and turn to the tools on the counter. 

“Now let’s see if we can’t get that rad working.” 

“Do you need help or?” 

David eyes the tools and then the rad wearily. 

“No, I think i’ll be ok. If you need to do your closing tasks, don’t let me stop you. This shouldn’t take long.” 

They work in companionable silence, though with David casting curious glances Patrick’s way. Patrick who is sitting on the floor, crossed legged, an intense look of concentration on his face as he twists the small metal key into what looks like a valve. There’s a hissing noise and David briefly wonders if he’s made a huge mistake but suddenly there’s water dripping into the cup Patrick is holding and a huge victorious grin spreads across his face.

“I take it that’s supposed to happen?” 

Patrick twists the key again, stopping the drip and looks up at David. 

“Yes! Exactly like the vi—” he stops himself from saying something and coughs before starting again, “exactly what it’s supposed to do. Without the air, the water should fill up the rad and you’ll have heat in no time.” 

He carefully cleans the area with the rag and stands. 

“I can, uh, wait around with you while you close up and see if we get any heat.” 

“You don’t have to—” 

“I want to—”

“But you can—”

They both stop and let out a deep long breath.

_Wow._

And so Patrick stays and David closes. He counts his money and then counts again when he loses track while watching Patrick trail his fingers over the keys of the old upright piano tucked in the back corner of the store. David doesn’t play, not really, but when he saw it for sale locally, he thought it would fit. That some of the wares would look nice displayed across the top.

“Do you play?” he asks when he loses count for a third time and gives up. 

Patrick startles but recovers quickly, walking back towards David. 

“I used to. I mostly play guitar these days but I can still play a few things. My grandfather played and I used to love sitting beside him at Christmas while he played for the family. They would sing or dance and I would just watch his hands move across the keys.”

“That sounds nice.” 

And it did. Different than anything David had ever experienced growing but he can imagine it. 

“Do you have any Christmas traditions or…” Patrick trails off noticing the Hanukkah candles displayed on a shelf next to the cash, “or Hanukkah traditions?”

David smiles softly looking at the candles and then a little further some of the Christmas ornaments on display in the front window, and gives a little shimmy before explaining, “I'm a delightful half-half situation so I get to celebrate both but younger, my family wasn’t really the traditional type. Or not at least in the way you’re thinking. My parents hosted lavish Christmas parties, while I mostly tried to escape them.” 

He finds Patrick’s gaze serious and focused on him. It’s a lot, it’s not what he was expecting and he finds the next words tumbling out without thinking. 

“But we’ve grown closer over the last few years and maybe we’ve created some new traditions. It’s been nice.” 

“Good,” Patrick says it like he means it. Like he’s happy this person he barely knows has some joy over the holidays. 

Who is like that? 

Patrick Brewer apparently. 

Patrick toys with his hat sitting on the counter. 

“Well then, you’ll have to come pick up a tree for the store this week, on the house.” 

“Can you imagine? A tree inside the store?” David says with a laugh and continues, “that’s ok, I think you’ve more than made up for the pine needles, Patrick.” 

And while it’s true, he had more than made up for it, it seems like David has said the wrong thing because Patrick is frowning and pulling his hat down on his head. He’s slowly packing away the thermos and pulling on his coat and David is opening his mouth to say more but isn’t quite sure where to start. 

Patrick backs away, tightening the straps of his pack and pauses near the rad.

“Already getting warm,” he says softly and adds, “you’re all set for winter”

“Thanks,” David whispers, for some reason the situation feeling fragile and Patrick’s hand is on the door and he’s leaving and, and, “Patrick!” 

Patrick’s head snaps up, eyes a little wide. 

“You could always come play this piano.”

What. Are. You. Doing? 

Patrick blinks but his mouth twitches a little bit and David is floundering. Oh god, if Stevie could see him now. 

“Ok, David.” 

“Or not?” 

David doesn’t know what he’s doing, he’s scrambling for something but can’t figure out what and Patrick doesn’t quite look like he knows either. Maybe the ground could swallow him whole and get him out of this mess. 

Patrick appearing to sense David’s discomfort, though for all the wrong reasons, opens the front door. 

“Right well, great then. Good night, David.”

“Good night, Patrick,” David says softly to Patrick’s retreating form.

And it’s only when the door is firmly closed behind Patrick, and his silhouette disappears into the night that David allows himself to collapse onto the counter. 

What the hell is wrong with him? And looking down at the mess on the counter, he sighs and starts counting the till all over again.

***HOHOHO***

David manages to keep his thoughts to himself for a week. 

He’s busy with the store, he has new shipments arriving almost every other day and he can barely keep his eyes open when his head hits the pillow at night and yet in those moments before sleep and dreams he does let his mind drift to Patrick. To why he hasn’t come back or why he showed up in the first place. Was it just a tease or a friendly neighbour? He tries to tell himself it was just a fleeting moment and yet— he feels a chance at something slip further away, with every tree that disappears from the lot. 

It’s probably nothing. He probably shouldn’t keep watching _The Holiday_ as he falls asleep. It’s filling his mind with silly ideas. David Rose doesn’t get his own _Holiday_.

But still, he is who he is and he only manages to keep his thoughts to himself for a week because when Stevie shows up again with another sweet holiday drink _not_ from the cafe, he needs to know. 

“I need to know,” he says sincerely as she wanders into the store, snow melting into the thick wool of her red toque and dusting her shoulders. He hadn’t realized it had started snowing. He looks up and sure enough the snow comes down in big fluffy flakes, catching in the light of the lamp posts, swirling in the air before dusting every surface outside in a bright white coat. His breath catches when he spots Patrick across the street, shaking off the snow from some of the trees out front, stopping to greet newcomers. 

“Need to know what?” she asks, bringing him back to the present. 

He opens and closes his mouth, trying to figure out how to ask, when all his thoughts grind to a stop. Stevie is gracing him with a genuine, true smile. They don’t do genuine, or not often, so why now? 

“Ask me what you want to ask me, David,” she encourages and waits expectantly.

“I just can’t help but notice you and Patrick—”

“Is this really about _me_ and Patrick?” she asks, cutting him off. 

He flutters his hands in her direction, knowing he’s quickly getting worked up but doesn’t quite know any other way.

“Well, he’s not coming to see me!”

“David!” Stevie exclaims with a heavy eye roll.

“What?” he asks, voice small, maybe a little defensive.

“Let me see if I get this right. First you accuse him of sabotaging your store with pine needles and then you insult his clothes.”

“How do you…”

Stevie holds up her hand and his words trails off. 

“But he still comes over to see you, fixes your radiator problem— by learning how to that afternoon on YouTube I might add.”

David’s mouth drops open, and now Stevie’s grinning, clearly on a roll, clearly enjoying all of this way too much. 

“Oh right, he also brought you a drink didn’t he?” 

“Yes,” David mumbles, starting to add up the pieces.

“And then he offers you a tree and you blow him off.”

David stiffens, indignant now, “I did not blow him off.”

“Oh so you actually said, thank you so much Patrick, I'll come by and pick one out?”

David replays their conversation, or really he replays his bumbling side of the conversation and that bit about the ground swallowing him whole? That would also be really great right now, except if he does that he won’t see Patrick.

“No,” David finally mumbles, absently letting Stevie crowd into his space, pushing him out from behind the register, so they are on opposite sides. She pulls the stool she usually sits on and gets settled, stuffing her coat under the counter. 

“I dunno, David. Maybe it's your turn to extend an olive branch?”

He looks around, realizing he’s being quite effectively put in his place and pushed out of his own store. And he can admit (very quietly and to himself) that Stevie has built a pretty solid case but there’s still one thing… 

“How do you know all this?” 

She shrugs but David needs to know.

“No. Come on, tell me.”

Stevie opens the solitaire game on his computer and on a deep breath turns to face him.

“He looked like he needed a friend when he first arrived.”

“And you offered that out of the goodness of your own heart? Come on, Stevie.” 

“I’m a nice person.” 

“Eh.” 

“You know I’m trying to help you here.”

They stare each other down. 

“I know you, Stevie.” 

“He’s a nice guy, but he also saw us walk home together his first night on the lot and offered me a drink if I told him a little about you.” 

“I knew it, you lush!” 

She grins, not denying it, turning back to her game and he can’t even be mad. Not when he feels good, hopeful, he looks outside, through the magical snowfall and towards the faint Christmas lights.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks, inching towards the front door, a thrum in his veins telling him to go for it.

“You’re both pretty fun to wind up.” 

He shakes his head, hand on the front door before Stevie speaks up again, “For what it’s worth, I like this for you.” 

He hesitates just another moment, that little moment of unknown where the possibilities are all before him but when she finally exclaims, “Go!” he steps out into the snowy night.

***HOHOHO***

He keeps forgetting his coat. It’s mid-December and he’s standing in the middle of a snowstorm in his favorite Neil Barrett sweater. Snowflakes are settling across his shoulders and chest and it barely registers, instead his eyes are fixed on the ground, putting one foot in front of the other against the new snow. There’s something quite auspicious about creating new tracks while walking towards something new, something out of his comfort zone. He’s also getting a little too philosophical for his own good, so he concentrates instead on the smell of the pine trees and crips air, takes a deep breath deep and steps into the lot. 

It’s quieter than it’s been the last few times he’s been here, like the snow has insulated them from the outside world. It helps calm his beating heart, and even allows him to consider that this won’t be so bad. He’ll tease Patrick for not dropping by, he’ll ask him out for drinks and be done with it. Easy.

“David! So great to see you!”

“Holy fu— I mean, hi Ray.”

David brings a hand to his chest, resting it over his heart in hopes that it's still beating. He answers Ray’s bright smile with a weak one of his own, trying to casually look around. If he can just find Patrick.

“What kind of tree are you interested in, David? One for the motel, maybe the Apothecary? I can make you a deal if you buy more than two.”

When David hesitates, Ray continues on unfazed. 

“We have spruce, fir, and oh! We have some pine trimmings, maybe you can make a wreath.” 

“Oh, I don’t think David’s going to want the pine, Ray.” 

Patrick’s voice startles David from behind, not giving his already rapidly beating heart a chance to get back on track. He slowly turns and there he is, color still high on cheeks, eyes more expressive than they have any right to be trained on David. 

The trapper hat is missing in action and David sort of… misses it?

“Oh, no,” he mumbles. 

“David?” Ray questions.

“Uh, um, no thanks. I just needed a word with Patrick.” 

They all stand in an awkward circle, well Ray doesn’t look awkward, he actually always seems comfortable in any situation that he finds himself in but David isn’t looking to have this conversation with an audience. Except, Patrick doesn’t seem inclined to help him, the fucking troll. 

“Oh come on,” David finally huffs, grabbing Patrick by the hand, giving him a tug, and throws an apology to Ray, “Sorry we’ll just be a few minutes.” 

David doesn’t wait for either to answer, he stalks forward leading Patrick further down the path of trees, away from Ray, the street, and the sounds of Schitt’s Creek, until they are in the furthest corner of the lot, surrounded by the tallest trees.

When David finally feels like they won’t be disturbed, he reluctantly lets go of Patrick and instead wraps his arms around himself. 

Patrick waits, which— fair. What did Stevie say, it was David’s turn to extend an olive branch. 

So of course he asks instead, “Didn’t feel like coming back to the store?” 

But luckily for David, Patrick’s smile tugs in recognition of what this is; David deflecting, David working his way towards something. 

“Something else for me to fix?” Patrick asks and David can’t do anything to hold back his eye roll. 

“No,” David says, only a little petulantly.

“Something to complain about? Wardrobe to critique? I’m not even wearing the hat,” Patrick continues to question, hand going reflexively to his curls, curls dusted in snow. He sends the snowflakes falling to the ground. 

“I like the hat,” he mumbles and Patrick’s eyebrows shoot up, “on you,” David amends, as if that correction makes the whole statement better and watches the laugh punch out of Patrick. His breath disappearing in a white cloud into the night. David watches it and then Patrick whose smile has settled into something less teasing, something more open. Something that says _take a chance on me_. 

“So then what are you trying to say?” Patrick asks and takes a step forward. And though he’s shorter, smaller than David, when his warm hands land on David’s arms and run a path up and down, he feels surrounded. He also realizes he’s shivering. He sways into the touch. 

“Do you have something against coats? You’re never wearing one when you come over here.”

“I’m easily distracted.”

David takes another step closer, the tip of his high tops brushing Patrick’s boots. He looks up when Patrick’s hands fall away from his arms but then he watches as they move to the buttons of his coat. 

“What distracted you?” Patrick asks casually, like the nearness isn’t undoing him as much as it is David. 

“Well, um, people tracking pine needles in and, and…” David’s words trail off as Patrick opens his coat and slowly wraps the left, then the right side of it around David. David would be embarrassed by the little squeak he lets out when all of Patrick is suddenly pressed against all of him but there’s warm lips and warmer breath against his ear and he forgets everything but that small point of contact, adjusting his arms to fit around Patrick’s broad shoulders. 

“And what, David?” Patrick asks. 

David shivers as those warm lips ghost up the side of his neck, hint at the underside of his jaw and David fights to find his own words, fearful that if he doesn’t get them out soon those lips will pull back and that will just not do.

“And maybe there’s this handsome guy who sort of knocked me off balance.” 

Patrick does pull back a bit, but it’s worth it to see the smile teasing his lips. 

“Handsome, eh?” 

David laughs, quiet and light and dips his head, the tip of his nose brushing Patrick’s, chilled from the cold. He shivers again and feels Patrick’s hold tighten. He hangs on for a split second more to that moment before he knows what Patrick tastes like, before everything changes. But then the wanting is too much and Patrick meets him halfway, lips slightly chapped and cool but breath warm, the wet slide confident.

Patrick pulls back, only so he can move back in, again and again. He kisses David, like he’s learning him, the angle a little different each time, the taste of him lasting a little longer until David is panting for it.

“I didn’t know lumberjacks kissed like that,” David whispers, their breath mingling, close enough to feel Patrick’s smile.

“Oh yes, they fucking do.” 

David pulls back, breath coming quick but his smile coming even quicker. 

“Did you just..” he trails off and grins further as Patrick’s eyes dance, happy that David recognized the movie line. “And just in case I wasn’t clear, I, uh, came here to ask you out.”

Patrick smiles, something soft and knowing, “I may have picked up on your ramblings.” 

“So that’s a yes?” David hedges, mouth dipping back down.

He feels Patricks tease, before he hears it; lips moving just out of reach before he asks, “Yes to what?” 

David knows Patrick’s drawing out the moment, trying to pull the words from David again, but David doesn’t mind, he feels the answer in the tease. Though that doesn’t mean he can’t retaliate a little, catching Patrick’s bottom lip, teeth worrying the skin there, slipping close before pulling away, smiling when Patrick chases him. 

“Go out with me,” David whispers, tightening his arms, breathing him in.

“Yes, David,” Patrick says through a light groan, holding tighter, but before David can taste those lips again, voices sound from around the corner. David pulls back, eyes closing against the frustration of being interrupted. 

“These are all sold out,” he calls out and feels Patrick’s chuckle where his lips are now buried against his neck. David peeks one eye and the couple hesitate. “Sorry!” he adds and breathes a sigh of relief as they turn away. 

“You may have just cost us a tree, David,” Patrick admonishes, “I guess now you’re the one who owes me.” 

“I think I can find a way to make it up to you,” David whispers, watching the snow fall, feeling Patrick’s pleased hum and dips to capture his lips again, losing himself to his very own holiday movie moment.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! xx


End file.
